Tears & Tequila
by soulofawinchester
Summary: Too nervous to tell Dean how she feels, it's hard watching him take girls back to the motel after a hunt. Drinking her pain away is never a good idea though, and when Sam catches up to her one night, in her altered state, she tells him everything.
1. Chapter 1

"What'll ya have sweetheart?"

The bartender's somewhat raspy, low voice caught me off guard. I sighed, swirling the leftover froth in the bottom of my beer bottle. I let the last of the swill drain into my mouth before I answered.

"Tequila, straight," I said. He just gave me one solemn nod and whisked away my second beer bottle. It was strange, the silent understanding relationship between patron and bartender. I'd been talking to Rob for about half an hour now, and he already knew something was wrong when I walked in. I'd started out with the boys, but they'd quickly found women to plaster themselves on, leaving me alone at the bar with its only constant civilized companion.

I didn't mind going to bars with the boys. Usually it was routine after a hunt to celebrate the life-saving and us not-being-dead one more time, but my emotions always got the better of me in here. The boys and I would order one round of drinks, talk for a bit, and then they'd both slip away to flirt like they always did. It didn't bother me much to begin with, but after living with them for a year and a half now, my feelings on the matter had shifted.

I wouldn't deny that I had feelings for Dean. That much had always been clear to me, and it was put in a spotlight when we went to a bar. Seeing him, giving those doe eyes and that trademark flirty Winchester smirk to another woman made my blood boil. I knew him better than any one of these strangers, and he sauntered on past me every time. But I was used to it, he thought of me as more of a friend now anyway and I was just going to have to live with that. I thought I could, until he started making out with these other women.

Let alone when I would be on my way home, always empty-handed, rarely accompanied by Sam. I knew exactly what was going on in a motel room somewhere. Dean, with a curvy, usually red-headed girl that only saw his looks and the carefully constructed front he put on for everyone else. When that started happening after every hunt, I'd usually elect to stay at the bar long after he'd left with another girl. And the fact that they were usually all redheads just like myself, didn't make anything any easier.

"Tequila, straight up," Rob said, placing the shot in front of me. "And I'd leave the bottle like always... but you need someone to talk to tonight. I can tell."

I gave Rob a weak smile, slowly rotating my shot glass. "Just the usual stuff Rob," I muttered. I knocked my head back, alcohol burning down my throat as it went and I put the glass back down with a thump. "Same shit, different day."

Rob smiled apologetically, pouring me another shot. "Worse than usual?"

"I might actually carve my own heart out tonight Rob, fair warning."

He raised his eyebrows. "No, no, no. We can't have that Katie."

I downed another shot, letting it bring tears to my eyes. "Then maybe you should talk to him for me, because Hell knows I'm never gonna work up the nerve to fucking do it. Not about this."

Rob laughed and started pouring more tequila into my glass with a nod from me. "If you keep up this pace with the sauce, you just might."

"Ha," I said, downing the shot as soon as he finished. I swallowed, tearing up again. "Only way that would ever happen is if I lost my mind. I'd have to be completely nuts to try and hit on Dean Winchester now, let alone tell him I still have feelings for him from when we were teenagers. Not to mention the fact that I get insanely jealous when he leaves with other women, and more than half the time I wish it was me."

The words just came spilling out of me, and Rob said something along the lines of, "Maybe he wishes it was you too." But I wasn't listening to him anymore, I was just focused on the impossible fantasy in my head. Dean and I getting physical, or him even having any kind of romantic feelings toward me anymore was a completely ludicrous notion. And it didn't help that I'd seriously sifted through all the times we'd been together before either. Well, not _together_ together. That'd only happened once, and it was a long time ago. Nothing about my situation was any kind of helpful. At the rate I was going, I was going to drink myself stupid and get cirrhosis before I worked up the courage to talk to Dean again.

"Kate, if you take one more shot I'm going to fucking kill you."

I had just let my fourth shot slide into my mouth when Sam's voice caused me to choke on it. I coughed a bit, keeping the liquor down, and looked over at him, utterly horrified. Had he heard what I'd been saying not five seconds ago? Jesus H. Christ, how could this get _any _worse?

"Sam, what the hell are you doing here?" My voice came out a little more harsh than I'd meant it, and I interrupted him as he tried to respond. "Sorry, sorry. What're you doing here?"

"I'm here to stop you from drinking yourself into a coma," he said, taking me by the hand. He laid a few bills out on the counter for Rob and gave him a polite smile before pulling me out of the bar. Outside it was drizzling lightly, fog swirling in the humid air. Sam practically marched me across the parking lot before we reached the sidewalk. I nearly planted my face in the asphalt three times on the way there, the tequila hitting me hard. What was that phrase? One, two, three, floor. I probably shouldn't have ordered tequila, it always got the better of me.

"What the hell are you doing Katie?" he asked, letting go of my wrist and walking at a slow pace next to me. I looked up at him and felt a pang in my stomach. Even when I was emotional like this, Sam was there to steady me back to myself, like always. And as I looked at him, tears started to form in my eyes. He knew how I felt without me telling him, he'd been in Dean's shadow more than a few times. Things were obviously different now, but I knew he remembered what that felt like. Plus, I hadn't outright told him about my past relationship with his brother, but he was smart enough to figure it out.

"Sam... I..." I trailed off, choking on what I wanted to say next. The crying started then. I fell into his chest, tightly wrapping my arms around him in a hug. He hugged me back, running his fingers up and down my back, just waiting for me to stop. He didn't care that I was soaking his t-shirt, or that we were both getting rained on. Sam knew me well enough now to know how to calm me down once I got this emotional.

"I'm sorry, I just..." My breath hitched, and I breathed deeply, steadying myself. "I'm just not having the best night."

Sam rolled his eyes as we started to walk. "Bullshit Katie. This is about Dean and we both know it."

I stopped short, my eyes wide. I swayed as I stood there, the warmth from the alcohol heating me up more than I liked. "How- what?"

Sam gave me a small, knowing smile. "It's kind of glaringly obvious if you pay attention."

I shook my head, walking again. My eyes scanned the pavement, stopping briefly on each shiny fleck of rock I found. Half of me didn't want to tell Sam about my persistent feelings for Dean, and the other half wanted to spill everything I'd been feeling lately. I knew he wanted to help, but part of me felt rude just dumping it on him. I sighed and he prompted me a bit.

"I can guarantee Dean's clueless, you're very sneaky about it. I'm just observant," Sam said, rubbing my shoulder a bit. "That's all."

"Sam, what the hell am I doing?" I asked, my resolve not to tell him caving like an eggshell under a five pound weight. "I stay at the bar, drink until I can barely walk, and then stumble back to the motel or the bunker, and cry myself to sleep. What part of that is any kind of intelligent?"

Sam gave me a slow sigh. "Not much of it. But you're only human, so we can give you a break."

"I want to tell him, I really do. But admitting that I never really got over him would be... terrifying."

Sam laughed now. "Oh come on Katie, you know Dean as well as I do. He'd be stoked about it."

I raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?"

Sam nodded. "Are you kidding? He told me about the time he drove over five states to come see you." My eyes widened and he continued. "Made me promise to keep it from our dad. He would've been furious. Here's the thing about my brother. We both know he can pick up almost any girl at a bar and get her to come home with him. But when it comes to the women he actually wants, he doesn't do a damned thing about it. That's just what he does."

"What are you trying to say?"

"Dean... he's not good with emotions. You know that as well as I do. Every relationship he's been in has ended poorly, so he opted out. He's not done anything serious with a girl for a very, very long time. And he pretends he's happy about it, like it's some achievement. But I know he misses it. He was the happiest I've ever seen him when he was with somebody else." Sam paused, trying to find the right words. "When it comes to showing his feelings for someone, regardless of how long he's known them, he doesn't really know how."

I processed what he'd said for a moment, half leaning on his arm as we walked. If he hadn't been helping me, I would've fallen over by now. It made sense. I hiccuped before I said, "Are you saying he never got over me either?"

Sam laughed at my wobbly tone of voice and I scowled at him. "If I know Dean, he didn't get over you." He paused again, contemplating something. "I caught on when he started looking at you all the time. It's always when you aren't looking. It was the same look he gave to Lisa."

I looked at him incredulously, trying to balance myself.

"He thought I didn't notice, but without a soul you notice everything. Apparently." Sam rubbed the back of his neck and ran his hands through his hair, leading me gently by the elbow down the sidewalk again.

"You're... you're sure?"

Sam nodded, looking down at me.

"What do I... do?"

Sam laughed now, a full bodied kind of laugh. He threw back his head and clapped his hands together, the guffaw coming out of his throat causing tears to form in his eyes. I hit him playfully on the arm and he tried to catch his breath.

"Oh... wow Katie. What do you think? Let him know!"

"That's not gonna be... weird?" I paused. "For you I mean."

"Weird? For me? Hell no," Sam smiled, rubbing my back a little as we walked. "I think... I think being with you would probably be the best thing for Dean. He's more like himself when you're around." Sam paused, the smile fading from his lips. "And after all of this... stuff, he needs that. More than he's willing to admit."

I just nodded and we walked the rest of the way home in silence. I had a green light from Sam, and my own internal crowd cheering for me to tell Dean about my feelings. For once, the aftermath of the hunt didn't seem so depressing.

Sam went to his own room, adjacent to mine and bid me goodnight, promising that we'd get breakfast in the morning. I thanked him for his advice and gave him a hug. I watched him go into his own room and shut the door before I turned to unlock my door. Sure, it was more expensive for each of us to have our own rooms, but Sam was definitely not going to walk in on his brother again. He'd had the discomfort of doing that once before, and never wanted to repeat the experience again.

Apparently now, it was my turn.

I let my door swing open wide and flicked on the light to a sight I wish I could've avoided. Dean was on the bed with the busty redhead he'd walked out of the bar with. The sheets were barely covering them and they both looked sweaty and disheveled. The nameless woman's hair was a tangled mess all across my pillow and her clothes were lying on top of my suitcase. Dean's clothes were probably on the other side of the bed, but I didn't look long enough to know for sure. I stood there for a moment, shell shocked, before I muttered, "Sorry." and ducked back out the room.

I let the door shut and Dean's face was burned into the back of my eyelids. His expression had gone from horrified, to shocked, to concerned and finally rested on something I couldn't quite place. My heartbeat sped up as I practically ran to Sam's room, tripping in the process.

My hands skidded across the pavement but they weren't quite enough to break my fall. I heard my own head crack against the pavement and felt the skull-splitting headache engulf my brain. I moaned in pain a little, trying to roll over. I had gone down hard and both my hands, knees and arms were definitely skinned. The alcohol I'd poured into my system earlier was starting to catch up to me now, and I rolled on my side. Images of Dean in bed, in _my bed_ with that other woman flitted across my eyes and I started to feel sick. The nausea got worse just as I heard a door open.

Vomit passed my lips and I was thankful it went in the grass and not all over the pavement I was lying on. I braced a hand on the untainted grass and propped myself up, heaving the rest of my stomach contents onto the lawn. A hand was on my shoulder and I knew it belonged to Sam when he spoke.

"Katie, are you okay? What happened? You're bleeding."

His fingers found the spot on my forehead where I'd hit the pavement and I was more aware of the blood trickling down my face now that I'd finished throwing up. Sam helped me to my feet and I wiped my mouth with my jacket sleeve, taking a shaky breath.

"Dean... he must've..." I felt another lurch in my abdomen and I moved back from Sam, dry heaving over the grass again. I took another deep breath and used his outstretched arms to steady myself. "He must've grabbed my room card... by mistake."

Sam's look of concerned confusion turned into an empathetic one once he realized what I'd said. He led me back to his room and sat me down at the small table by the window, going into the kitchen to get me a glass of water. I took it from him gratefully and slowly sipped from it, catching my breath. Sam unzipped a pocket in his bag and scooted his chair next to mine, carefully mopping up the blood from the cut on my head.

"The look on his face Sam..." I mumbled after a moment.

Sam let out a sigh, his hand rubbing my upper arm as he finished with the bandage. "Katie-"

"I know he was drunk... and he didn't mean to get into my room... but..." Tears rolled down my cheeks and I closed my eyes, his face still staring at me. I looked at the image burned into my lids and slowly realized what Dean's expression had been.

"He looked... ashamed."

"Ashamed?"

I nodded slowly, my head still pounding. "Like he was disappointed with himself."

"He fucking should be. Drunk or not, he should've checked-"

I held up a hand and Sam cut himself off. "Can we... not?"

Sam just nodded, swallowing his sentence and getting up from his chair. He elected for me to sleep in his bed while he took the sofa. I rejected his suggestion immediately, there was no way he was going to even remotely fit on that two cushion brick. But he insisted.

"Listen Katie. I love you like a sister and I'm not going to let you sleep on a sofa when you clearly feel like shit. You need a bed, and you're taking mine. Is that clear?"

I just nodded, hugging him again. He squeezed me a little and I crawled into bed, kicking off my shoes. Maybe tomorrow would be better, maybe it would be worse. I didn't know. All I knew is that sleep would hopefully free me from this nausea and the constant thought of Dean in bed with someone else. I drifted off to sleep, still thinking about it.


	2. Hungover

I awoke with a pounding headache and the feeling on my tongue gave new meaning to the phrase "cotton mouth". What little saliva I had left I swallowed, and as I opened my eyes, morning sun leaking through the curtains to Sam's motel room, I felt my stomach lurch. Fear shot my eyes open fully and I flung the sweaty blankets off my body, making a break for the bathroom.

I threw the door open and it banged against the wall behind it, the doorstop making a loud, vibrating ping. I barely made it in time. As soon as I had the lid to the toilet open my stomach emptied itself. Stomach acid burned my throat like fire and I was scrambling to keep my hair out of the mess. My body shook with dry heaves and the cold tile on my knees caused me to shiver as I clung to the toilet bowl.

When the ordeal had subsided, I heard a soft knock at the door. "You okay now Katie?"

My shaking fingers found the lever for the toilet and I pulled it down. Nobody needed to see that. I glanced up at Sam and gave a weak smile, resting my back against the tub. All I could really muster was a nod. Sam walked toward me, squatting in front of me. "You wanna get cleaned up and grab breakfast?" His voice was low and soft, and my heart ached, remembering why he was being so very nice to me.

Dean.

I grimaced, looking down at my lap. "Yeah." He held out his hand and I took it. Sam helped me to my feet and over to the sink. I splashed some cold water on my face and rinsed out my mouth. Despite the moisture it still felt dryer than a bed of pine needles.

"Hey, Sam?"

He'd started to change in the other room and as he pulled a shirt over his head he looked back over to me. "What is it Katie?"

I leaned against the doorway, still wobbly from my hangover. "Will you..." I took a deep breath, fighting back the tears as I thought of what I was asking him to do. "Will you go get my bag?"

Sam looked confused for half a second and then nodded, getting up from the bed. He slipped on some shoes and took my room key, which I'd left on the little table by the window. A muttered, "Be right back." and he was gone, door snapping shut quietly behind him.

As soon as he was gone I sank onto the bed. I let the tears flow out of my eyes, considering this was probably the only length of time I'd be alone today. We were due to leave on another case by at least noon today, and it was already ten o'clock. A mere two hours from now I'd be sitting in the backseat of the Impala, forcibly staring out the window to avoid looking at Dean.

I dreaded it. I knew as soon as I saw him I'd have to fight every emotion that would come boiling to the surface. Anger. Sadness. Jealousy. And no doubt a myriad of others, all fighting to be expressed in any way I could manage. I let them out now, flinging my pillow across the room at the TV. The advertisement card stand fluttered to the floor and I fell back on the bed, squeezing my eyes shut.

I wanted to badly to march over to Dean's room, or mine, wherever he was, and smack the shit out of him. I wanted to scream at him, cry and break everything within reach. But it wasn't his fault. Wrong place, wrong time. That was all and I was going to have to suck it up and deal with it. No matter how much I wanted to just run away from all of this and never see him again.

I almost laughed. He'd done nearly the same thing to me when we were teenagers, but under much different circumstances.

I took a deep breath and went back into the bathroom, somehow trying to tame my wild bedhead. A string of swearwords had just escaped my lips when Sam reentered the room with my duffel bag. He dropped it on the bed and called over to me.

"I think he went back to his room."

I came out of the bathroom, having given up on my hair looking any semblance of normal. I my eyes grazed over Sam for a second before I unzipped my bag and pulled out some clean clothes. The corners of my mouth pulled down and he continued.

"Didn't even look like anyone was there in the first place. Bed was made, all your stuff was put back..." he trailed off, realizing I was grinding my teeth.

"I'll just be a minute." One quick trip to the bathroom and we were on our way to the diner around the corner, on foot. As we passed the parking lot of the motel I looked around, noticing that the Impala was missing.

Sam looked over and seemed to notice the same thing. "I'll call him."

It was almost an unspoken rule between these two by now. Whenever one of them disappeared without warning, a call was made. Usually if there wasn't an answer a text followed. The reply from the missing brother would usually resemble something like, "I'm fine, be back in an hour."

"Where the hell are you Dean?" Sam sounded genuinely angry and somehow that made me feel a little bit better. We kept walking toward the diner, and I absentmindedly kicked a rock down the sidewalk as we went. "Be back by noon or I'm going to come find you and kick your ass. Dean I mean it. Dean?" Sam pulled his cell back from his ear and then angrily shoved it in his pocket, muttering, "Ass."

"He hang up on you?"

Sam just nodded.

Breakfast was a quiet affair. Sam tried to broach the subject of what had happened last night, but I'd shut it down. I knew if I started talking about it again I would just burst into hysterical tears, and I wasn't about to do that in a crowded diner. We ate and I felt a little bit better after this morning, but still kind of heavy and unstable. Around eleven thirty we walked back to the motel and I went to my room this time.

"Thanks Sam," I said, giving him a tight hug. "I mean it, really. Thanks for having my back."

Sam chuckled and hugged me back. "With my dickhead of a brother around someone's got to."

We broke apart and he went back to his motel room, the door clicking quietly behind him. I was finally going back to my room, now that I knew it didn't contain any other nasty surprises for me. My hand was on the doorknob when I heard a voice.

"Hey! Yeah, hey! You! Yeah you, pervert!" The sound echoed across the parking lot. I turned around, looking for the source of the screeching.

"Yeah, you! Little fucking pervert, what the hell is wrong with you?" It was the voice of a busty, red-headed woman. She was walking quickly toward me, her long curls bouncing off her shoulders. I recognized her instantly, her hair was a dead giveaway. It had been spiked across my pillow last night. "You get off on watching people fuck, do you? What the fuck is your problem?"

"Slow the fuck down lady," I said, a little louder than I'd meant to. Seeing her up close now, and knowing what she'd done the night before, my anger began to flare up like napalm. "That was-"

"What was it? Huh? You think walking in on two people fucking is anything other than completely rude? I have half a mind to-"

"Calm the fuck down, this is _my_ room, okay?" I shouted at her, cutting her off. "And from the looks of you, you do have half a mind! Get the hell away from me."

I turned to open my door again and I felt a heavy blow strike me at the back of the head. I fell down, taken aback and still wobbly from my hangover, and nearly took my eye out on the doorknob. The woman's purse dropped to the ground and she moved to stand over me.

"Hey!"

The voice was faint, very far away, but I don't think the crazy woman on top of me heard it. She punched me again and after the white sparks cleared from my eyes I twisted my leg around, effectively landing her on her back. She wasn't very stable to begin with, wearing skinny four inch heels. I rested up on my knees and punched her square in the eye, falling down in the process. She reached out to claw my face and I tried to lean away, but I wasn't quick enough. Her nails scratched down the side of my cheek and I kicked her. She rolled over and suddenly her body wasn't in my line of vision anymore. I looked up and saw her on her feet, someone holding her by the arms.

"Get the fuck out of here, right now." The voice was a low growl, and as I blinked the woman's back came in to a blurry focus. The woman's footsteps clicked and clacked away, sounding uneven. As I looked after her I realized she'd snapped a heel in our altercation and I smiled to myself a bit.

"You okay?"

My head snapped up again and found Dean's face. He was squatting next to me, a hand outstretched to help me up. I just nodded, looking away from the concern in his face. I put my hand in his and he gripped it, pulling me to my feet. I took my hand back as soon as I was standing again and I opened the door to my room, anxious to get away from Dean and anything he had to say.

He caught me by the shoulder. "Katie..."

"No! You know what, no! Don't you 'Katie' me! Get off!" I shouted, whirling around and glaring at him straight in the face. "You don't get to do that!"

Dean held up both hands at waist level, taking a small step back. "Katie, I just-"

"You just what, huh? What, Winchester? What exactly do you have to say for yourself? You just wanted to say she meant nothing? Like all the rest of the girls you bring back with you? That it was a one night stand, that you don't even know her last name? Well good for you Dean! Fucking great, that's just awesome for you. Go whine to Sam about how terrible she was in bed, like you always do." I paused taking a deep breath, my fists clenching at my sides. I hadn't really meant for that part to slip out, but it had. I was in deep now, and I just kept going. "It's like you always forget how thin motel walls are. You're so oblivious it almost hurts, you know? If you took one second, one tiny _second_ to stop and think... Why is it, why is it that you can't see a good thing when it's staring you right in the face, huh? What is it that screws all that up? Can you tell me? I swear, you're like a two year old. You're more interested in the wrapping paper than what's inside. And-"

"I'm sorry, okay?" Dean said loudly, interrupting my rage-fueled rant. "I'm sorry. Just hear me out. Please."

I shook my head. "If you were sorry, you wouldn't have run off Dean. That's not what you do when you want to apologize to someone."

"Well, that's what I do..." He mumbled this, looking down at his feet. Dean's hand rubbed the back of his neck and I stood there, waiting with tears in my eyes. "I really am sorry Katie. I shouldn't have..."

"Shouldn't have what, Dean? Shouldn't have taken her back to the motel? Back to my room? Shouldn't have run away? Shouldn't have dumped me and run away like before? Shouldn't have what, exactly? Tell me."

"All of it. I shouldn't have done any of it. I should have just grown a pair and told you." He looked up now, staring at me. There were tears in his eyes and I could tell he was fighting hard not to let them fall. My anger started to melt rapidly as I looked at him. It dripped and dribbled down to my feet and my fingertips, draining out of me like water down a pipe.

Dean slowly outstretched his hands to mine, taking my balled up fists in his gentle fingers. Slowly, I uncurled my fingers, letting them relax into his grip. He rubbed his thumbs over the crooks of my hands and gave me a small smile. He leaned forward slowly, his forehead gently resting on mine. "I'm sorry, okay?" His voice was barely audible, but I knew he meant it now. His eyes flicked down and then back up quickly, his voice soft. "I never should have left you."

He leaned closer still and looked down at me through his lashes, as I looked up through mine. His breath was warm against my mouth and he hovered over my lips for a moment. Dean slowly pressed his lips against mine, his hands squeezing mine at the same time. I did the same and pushed my face closer to his, taking him back a little. The tears that had threatened to fall earlier now spilled out of my eyes.

We broke apart at the same time and he looked down at me, one hand leaving mine to brush the tears from my cheeks. This only spurred on more and I glued myself to him, my arms locking around his torso in a vice grip. He hugged me back, letting the tears flow into his shirt. I took a few deep, ragged breaths and pushed back from his chest, his arms still around me.

"I don't have to spell it out for you, do I?" he chuckled, almost grinning down at me.

I shook my head.

"I'm sorry I've been such an idiot. Everyone of those girls should have just been you."

"Easy, tiger," I laughed, punching him gently in the chest.

He laughed, pulling me back to his chest. The sound of a door slamming cut off his laughter. "Help me with Sam?" Dean's voice was almost trembling.

I laughed now, looking around at Sam who was storming across the parking lot toward us. He had a murderous look in his eyes. "You're on your own with that one Dean."


End file.
